Wondrous Love
by fembuck
Summary: Unsatisfied with the way she left things off with Max, Eleanor goes to see her, and the conversation that follows could change everything. Sequel to "We Foolish Things".
1. Chapter 1

**PART I**

The silence that descended over the room once Eleanor had entered and Max had pulled the doors shut was a tense one. At one time, when Max's room had been home to her, Eleanor would have gone over to the bed and sat herself on it without a thought. But now she felt an interloper in the space and was unsure what to do with herself, so, she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching Max with furtive longing as Max bent down to open the bottom drawer of her dresser.

"I thought we'd finished that off," Eleanor commented when Max stood up and turned around, making visible to Eleanor what she had retrieved from the dresser drawer.

Max held two glasses, and a bottle of Calvados that Eleanor had given to her year ago after liberating it from a secret stash her father had left behind when he moved to Harbour Island.

"Almost, but not quite," Max replied with a small smile as she took at sat at her table. She then turned to look at Eleanor and waved her wrist at the chair opposite her, inviting Eleanor to sit down. "We started it together. We can retire it together tonight," Max breathed out as Eleanor joined her.

Max set the glasses down and the room became quiet again as Eleanor watched her pour.

"What did you want to say?" Max slid one of the glasses over to Eleanor.

Eleanor gazed at her contemplatively, and then she picked up her glasses and swiftly downed two-thirds of it.

Max took a small sip of hers and kept her gaze firmly on Eleanor.

"Not long ago, you bade me speak and I did not," Eleanor began, placing her glass down. "This silence has been a constant failing of mine, before our parting and since."

Eleanor spoke slowly, choosing her words with the utmost care as she held Max's gaze.

"You said," her voice trembled and she bit down on her bottom lip nervously. "You said that you were not an end for me. This is not, and never has been, true. I love you Max, so fiercely that it frightens me sometimes. So strongly that I could not imagine that you could feel the same way about me," Eleanor admitted softly, looking down at her lap.

Max shifted in her chair restlessly and her lip twitched with the desire to speak, but she managed to hold the words back. Her control was precarious for a moment. She wanted so badly to speak. But she could see that Eleanor was trying. Eleanor was struggling to be sure, but she was trying, which was what Max had asked her to do.

"I know now I was wrong about that," Eleanor continued, looking up and over at Max. "The failing that led me to such worries lies within me, not you."

Eleanor paused for a moment, gathering courage, and then she began to speak the words that she had kept to herself for far too long.

"I have spent hours watching your face as you slept, trying to commit every curve and dip to memory. You consume my thoughts, morning, noon and night. I have imagined your face lined with age and your hair streaked with grey, and prayed that I would still be lying beside you in those twilight years, forever yours. I should have said these things to you before, but I was afraid to. I … I was afraid of looking foolish."

Eleanor dropped her eyes again, ashamed.

"I was afraid that what I saw in your eyes and felt in your touch was a product of my desperate imagination. I was plagued by the thought that I was just another fool who had mistaken your gentleness for more and become overly besotted with you," Eleanor breathed out shakily, blinking against the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. "I know my words come too late, and that I cannot expect them to make a difference, but I want you to know that I loved you and cherished you, and that I still do. It was never my intention to dismiss you, and I _never_ forgot you, Max. Never."

Max looked up from the glass she was cradling in her hands, and there was hope in her gaze but also doubt.

"Such pretty words," Max murmured finally, her voice soft and pained. "But words are easier than action."

"Hammond is not in Port Royal," Eleanor said, the words falling from her lips before she even realized that she was speaking.

Max's eyes widened and her breathing quickened at the sound of Eleanor's words.

"He's dead," Eleanor continued quickly, noticing Max's fear. "So are the others," she added. "Never able to harm you or any other again," she stated fiercely.

"'ow do you know this?" Max asked, meeting Eleanor's fiery gaze.

"Because I gave Anne Bonny the money she needed to lure them out to the dunes, where she and five of my men then killed them," Eleanor related matter-of-factly. "It nearly got me lynched and my bank account now echoes, but we made them pay Anne and I," Eleanor continued, her voice now low and fierce. "May they burn in the pits of hell where they belong," she whispered viciously under her breath.

There was something in Eleanor's eyes then that Max had never seen before, a quiet menace, cold and intense. That ferocity was in Eleanor's eyes, was in Eleanor because of her, in defence of her, and that knowledge made something clench deep inside of Max, leaving her fighting back tears.

"You did this for Max?" she managed to choke out.

"Of course I did," Eleanor declared, leaning forward passionately. "I never would have left you to those animals, Max. Never," she swore. "My only regret is that I wasn't able to rid the world of Charles Vane at the same time as his dogs."

"That would 'ave been more for you than for Max," Max stated, the words falling from her lips with the surety of fact. "But, I would not 'ave mourned 'is passing," she added, not wanting Eleanor to think that she disagreed with the sentiment.

"No one would have," Eleanor muttered darkly, disappearing inside of herself for a moment before focusing outward, on Max, once again.

She only paused to indulge in her vengeful thoughts for a moment, but the break had given Max's mind enough time to wander as well, and hers had taken her to an equally dark place as Eleanor's.

"Max -" Eleanor began entreatingly.

"You would 'ave let them beat me," Max cut in, her voice low and harsh as she finally spoke the words that had been festering inside of her since the afternoon her world had shattered.

Eleanor's eyes widened and she jerked forward.

Max recoiled from her and Eleanor froze for a moment, her arm outstretched.

"They wouldn't have hurt you, Max," Eleanor began softly as she drew back and settled properly in her chair instead of perching on the edge of it. "No one was to lay a hand on you. I was very clear about that before I …" Eleanor sighed and looked down in shame. "Before I brought them to your room."

Eleanor took a deep breath, and then looked up to face the anger she knew she deserved.

"Gates was … he was just supposed to talk to you for a while … to motivate you."

"Motivate?" Max repeated disdainfully. "You mean intimidate into submission."

Eleanor did not say anything in her defense and Max released a harsh huff of air from her nose before she angled her head to the side, away from Eleanor.

"If you're intention was not to cause Max pain, you failed, miserably," Max declared, her voice and eyes hard as stared into the depths of her room.

"I know," Eleanor breathed out wretchedly. "Believe me, Max. I am entirely aware of how spectacularly I fucked up," she continued, meeting Max's gaze and holding it when Max looked back over at her. "I do not deny the righteousness of your anger or your suspicion. I deserve it," Eleanor stated firmly. "What I did was reprehensible … but I am asking you to try and forgive me, because I do love you Max, so very much, and despite the pain I have brought to you of late, I truly believe that I can make you happy. I want desperately to make you happy," Eleanor stated with an earnestness that squeezed at Max's heart, making it ache in the most blissful way.

"I know that we cannot control what our hearts feel, and if yours truly cannot forgive me for what I did that day, then I will accept this and leave you be – though I want you to know I will always be here for you if ever you found yourself in need of help," Eleanor breathed out stiffly, though her eyes shone with sincerity. "If however, you think that you might be able to one day forgive me for the mistakes I have made, then I would ask that allow me the chance to try and prove myself to you. I beg you to allow me the opportunity to show you that you were not foolish to love me, and that it would not be foolish of you to do so again."

Max closed her eyes as the last of Eleanor's words washed over her and she breathed out deeply through her nose. She was still for a few moments, and then she swiftly rose to her feet.

"Max?" Eleanor asked, softly, hesitantly.

"I need a minute," Max rasped before striding towards her terrace doors, which she quickly opened and stepped through, escaping into the cool night air.

Max walked to the wooden railing and clutched at it tightly.

Her heart was pounding madly in her chest and her head was swimming.

She felt dizzy and faint.

Her hands tightened on the railing and she sucked in deep breath of air after deep breath of air.

"Max?"

Max's head jerked around at the sound of Eleanor's voice.

"Are you okay?" Eleanor asked softly, stepping out onto the terrace. "You seem," Eleanor continued, struggling to find the right word. "Perturbed," she breathed out a few seconds later.

"Perturbed?" Max asked, momentarily forgetting that she had been in the middle of an anxious fit.

"Anxious," Eleanor clarified awkwardly. "Unsettled," she added a moment later, her nerves beginning to get the best of her as Max stared at her with an expression that Eleanor couldn't quite decipher. "Upse…"

"I know what the word means," Max injected before Eleanor could provide another synonym.

"Yes," Eleanor murmured, looking down at her feet. "Of course. I'm sorry, I just…"

"Eleanor?" Max said, cutting in before Eleanor could begin rambling again.

"Yes?" Eleanor asked eagerly, desperate for any opportunity to start proving herself to Max.

"Will you 'old me?" Max asked.

"Yes," Eleanor said quickly, closing the scant distance that remained between their bodies before molding herself against Max's back. "Thank you," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around Max and drew the brunette back against her body.

Max sighed softly and curled into Eleanor's embrace, and for some minutes they stood together in peaceful silence, watching the few flickering lights of the town beyond and listening to the ocean.

"If you think," Max began, stepping away from Eleanor many minutes after she had first snuggled against her. "That you can win Max's heart again," Max continued, tilting her head to meet Eleanor's eyes, "then Max bids you try."

"Thank you," Eleanor whispered for the third time since coming to Max's room, and then she reached up, took Max's face between her hands, and leaned down, bringing their lips together in a deep, penetrating kiss that left them both feeling lightheaded and breathless when it ended.

Eleanor leaned forward, intent on tasting Max's lips again but Max placed a restraining hand on her stomach.

"It is late," Max breathed out gently. "You should go."

For a moment Eleanor looking confused, but when she spoke it was to say, "As you wish."

Eleanor's good behaviour made Max feel merciful, before Eleanor could move away from her, she offered an explanation to Eleanor for why she had stopped Eleanor from kissing her again.

"I 'ave to speak with Anne."

Eleanor nodded a few times and her eyes dropped away from Max's before she murmured, "To confirm my story. Of course."

"No," Max said sharply, though her expression gentled when Eleanor looked up at her with a wounded, bewildered expression, clearly not understanding what she had said to earn Max's ire. "Anne 'as been sharing my bed, as I am sure you know," she stated, holding Eleanor's eyes steadily. "She 'as been good to me. I cannot lay with you again until I 'ave properly ended things with 'er. I owe 'er that much."

She had lost control of herself earlier that night in Eleanor's office. She had sought to soften Eleanor towards her cause with some gentle touches and chaste kisses, but she had underestimated the power of the desire that still burned inside of her for Eleanor, and once she had started kissing Eleanor and touching her, rational thought had left her.

It had disappointed her and hurt her when Eleanor had taken hold of her hand, stopping the pleasure it had been giving her, but Max was grateful for Eleanor's earlier restraint now. After all she had given to Max, and given up for her, Anne deserved better from her. Max could not change how she felt, but she was now in control of her actions, and she would act with decency.

"Yes, of course. I…I'm sorry," Eleanor replied softly. "I will take my leave now," she continued, looking over at the winding walkway that would lead her back to the tavern and her office. "I have occupied enough of your time this night. I will let you sleep," she went on, her nerves causing her to lapse into more formal speech patterns.

"Goodnight, Eleanor," Max said gently before she pushed up onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips against Eleanor's cheek.

"Goodnight, Max," Eleanor whispered, reaching out to take Max's hand which she squeezed steadfastly for a few seconds before finally releasing it and stepping back. "May I see you tomorrow?" Eleanor asked, soft and hopeful.

"If you wish," Max murmured.

"Then I will see you tomorrow," Eleanor stated resolutely, a cheeky little smile touching her lips before she turned and began to walk away.

Max watched her until she disappeared from sight, and then she turned and headed back into her room as a bright smile pulled up her lips.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**PART II**

Sunlight warmed Max's face as her eyes slowly fluttered open. She sighed contently and turned her face into the light, enjoying the warmth for a moment before she rolled over and snuggled against the slim body beside her, pressing a sleepy kiss to the first patch of bare skin her lips found.

"Mornin'."

The voice surprised Max and she tensed for a moment before whispering, "Good morning," to Anne in a voice that was heavy and thick with sleep.

Max brushed her lips against Anne's exposed clavicle again, the gentle touch an apology for the slight Anne wasn't aware Max had just dealt her. It hadn't been an unintentional one of course. Max couldn't have controlled her instinctive reaction to the sound of Anne's voice, but it made her feel guilty because in her drowsy state of half-consciousness she had been expecting to find Eleanor beside her.

Anne had been her nighttime and morning companion for over a month, and Max had grown used to falling asleep beside Anne and waking up in her arms – for as reticent as Anne was to hold her as they fell asleep, she always ended up wrapped around Max by morning. She should not have been surprised to find Anne beside her, even though Anne had not been there when she had gone to sleep. It should have been Anne's voice she expected to hear, but Eleanor was the last person Max had seen before going to bed, Eleanor had been on her mind when she had fallen asleep, and Eleanor had stayed on her mind as she slumbered. Thoughts of Eleanor had consumed Max, and lost in that hazy dreamlike realm between sleep and consciousness, Max's mind had carried Eleanor out of her dreams and placed her in her bed.

"Max did not expect to wake to the sight of you," Max breathed out, pulling back from Anne's body a little bit so that she could see the redhead's face.

Anne's expression twisted into one of discomfort and then she shrugged her shoulders. Max stared at her for a moment, and then she shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly, mimicking Anne.

"That is not a response," Max stated, looking at Anne expectantly.

Anne sighed deeply and frowned at her.

"Weren't that mad," Anne finally muttered, and even as Max rolled her eyes at Anne, a small smile touched her lips.

"Why did you not wake me?" Max asked, her voice gentler now that Anne was actually speaking to her instead of simply grunting responses, which was her default way of communicating.

Anne started to shrug again, but Max's eyes narrowed and her lips parted to issue a warning, so Anne changed tactics.

"You was dead to the world. Figured I'd leave ya be," Anne replied, using her words.

She didn't know how deeply and for how long Max used to sleep before Hammond and the others, but since she had started sharing Max's bed it had been a rare night that Max made it all the way to morning without jerking awake at least once. Max had been sleeping peacefully when Anne had finally deigned to show up in her room, and Anne hadn't wanted to interrupt what might've ended up being the only full night's sleep Max got that week.

"Or maybe you did not want to 'ave to talk to Max," Max said, her tone relatively light though her eyes were focused as she gazed at Anne.

Anne's shoulders rose and fell in response to Max's words. Max glared at her again, but this time Anne would not be moved to speak, because to speak would reveal weakness.

It was true that Max had trouble sleeping, and Anne was not so thoughtless a person that she would disturb Max's sleep on one of the rare occasions when she was sleeping soundly. But Max was also right. Anne had not wanted to talk. She had seen when Max returned to the brothel after her meeting with Eleanor, but she had still been upset with Max so she had not approached her. Half an hour later however, Anne had climbed the stairs intent on finding Max and patching things up between them, but when she reached Max's door she heard voices coming from inside, and one of those voices had been Eleanor's.

Anne had turned and headed back down the stairs then, and headed straight for the brothel's small bar where she'd remained seated until the bar had closed. She'd pondered escaping into the night to find other lodgings, but she had to know if Eleanor was still up there with Max. She had a right to know if Eleanor was still up there with Max, so Anne finally climbed the stairs and went to Max's room.

A large part of Anne had truly expected to find Eleanor and Max wrapped up together on the bed, but she had found Max alone. That Eleanor was not there did not mean that nothing had happened between the two women, but Anne was exhausted physically and emotionally so she decided that she would deal with aftermath of Max's meeting with Eleanor some other time.

When it became clear to Max that Anne would not be sway by her looks of displeasure, she sighed – loudly and irritably – and slipped out of the bed.

"So, what'd she say?" Anne asked, propping herself up against the headboard as Max crankily walked through the room, going about her morning routine.

"She will 'elp," Max replied, not turning to look at Anne as she poured some water into a bowl and then bent over it to splash some on her face.

"Course she will," Anne muttered darkly, grumpily tugging at a loose thread on the dark green shirt she was wearing.

Max might have doubted the depth of Eleanor's feelings for her, but Anne didn't. She had seen just how much Eleanor was willing to risk for Max and how far she was willing to go for her. She knew how Eleanor felt about Max, and she had never doubted that Max would come out of the meeting with Eleanor with everything she wanted.

"You say that like you 'ad no doubt," Max commented, turning towards Anne once her face was dry. "You used to call 'er 'cunt' and 'bitch', you 'ad no use for uppity 'Mistress Guthrie', but now you do not doubt that she would risk precious gold to 'elp Max. Why?" Her eyes were focused intently on Anne. "And do not dare shrug!" she added, pointing a finger at Anne when she saw the redhead's shoulders begin to shift up.

"Cuz you're you and she's 'er," Anne bit out testily, glaring right back at Max. "She ain't never been able to deny you nothin'," Anne pronounced, daring Max to disagree with her, as she always did.

Max stared at Anne for a moment, her old feelings of hurt and abandonment making her want to vehemently protest Anne's words – as she always had when Anne commented on the strength of Eleanor's feelings for her – but after what Eleanor had told her the night before, the words of protest would not come.

Anne studied Max carefully as Max stared her, and Anne's eyes followed Max suspiciously as Max opened the terrace doors and stood in the sunlight looking out on the town beyond.

"Motherfucker!" Anne exclaimed a short while later, angrily ripping the blanket that had been covering her legs off of her before getting out of the bed.

"What?" Max asked turning, surprised and a little alarmed by Anne's outburst. "Anne?"

"She told ya, didn't she?" Anne asked, dropping her pants which she'd just picked up. "Is that why she come up 'ere last night?" Anne continued, stalking across the room to where Max was standing. "She make me out to be a liar? Cuz I wanted to say what we done, right away. She's the one that said to tell ya nothin'."

"You could 'ave told Max anyway," Max replied, stepping back into the room. "Eleanor is not your master."

Anne scoffed.

"What good would it a done? We killed those bastards for ya, but once ya come 'ome she didn't 'ave a goddamn to say, did she? She's got a mouth. Whole islands 'eard it use it plenty. Weren't my place to speak fer 'er. Weren't my place to say nothin'."

"And after I took you to my bed?" Max asked, stepping closer to Anne, eradicating what little space that had been left between them. "Did you still think you 'ad no responsibility to be honest with Max then?"

Anne's eyes went wide for a moment, and then she blinked a few times before lowering her head, hiding her eyes from Max.

"Look at me," Max stated firmly. "You look at me, Anne Bonny."

Anne looked up.

"Why did you not tell me what the two of you 'ad done?"

"Cuz what's done is done," Anne declared, holding Max's eyes intensely for a moment before she turned away and began to pace. "It was in the past. If she'd wanted to make it part a the present, she 'ad plenty a fucking time to bring it up, but she didn't."

"Max knows what Eleanor didn't do, and know she knows why. Max is asking why _you_ chose not to speak."

"Cuz I been 'ere!" Anne replied. "You kissed me, and…" Anne paused for a second as her eyes drifted over Max and drank in the sight of her. So beautiful. So fucking beautiful. How could she has resisted? The sound of Max's voice, her soft skin, that playful and challenging smile, the gentle press of Max's fingers on her skin. How could she have resisted? "And like a fuckin' idiot I gave in," Anne continued, tearing her eyes away from Max. "I chose you. Jack'll barely talk to me now, and if I'd told you 'bout … if I'd … you woulda…" Anne stopped talking abruptly when she realized what was about to fall from her lips, but even as she halted the stream of words flowing from her mouth, she knew it was too late, she knew she'd said too much.

"I would 'ave what?" Max asked softly.

"You'd a gone back to her," Anne muttered as she stared down at the floor. "I ain't stupid," she continued accusingly, glancing up at Max. "I see 'ow you look at 'er," Anne declared, glaring at Max for a moment, her expression a mixture of anger and pain. "You're not over 'er, wasn't never over 'er, you just been with me to not feel so alone. Fucked up thing is I always knew it too. First time we fucked on that bed I knew you'd leave me, but unlike 'er, I cared enough to stay and fight fer you."

The room fell into silence for a few seconds after the last of Anne's words, and then Max slowly began to walk towards Anne.

"Anne," she began softly, gently.

"Forget it," Anne muttered, turning from Max and heading back over to her discarded pants.

She knew how this was going to go.

Max followed Anne and reached out, placing her hand on Anne's arm.

Anne pulled away from her and began to hurriedly tug on her trousers.

"Max 'asn't been using you," Max breathed out as Anne sat down on the bed and began to tug on her boots.

Anne made a gruff sound of disagreement in response but did not say anything.

Max sat down on the bed beside her, but Anne did not look over at her as she started to pull on her other boot.

"I care about you," Max said, reaching out to take Anne's hand, but that too Anne pulled away from her. "Do you think Max a liar?" Max asked softly as Anne bent at the waist again to finish pulling on her boot.

"No," Anne muttered gruffly as she rose to her feet and began to shove her shirt into the waistband of her pants. "But that don't change the fact it's 'er you really want, not me."

Max's lips parted to speak, but no words fell from them as she gazed at Anne, silent and pleading. She wanted to reassure Anne that she had not entered into a relationship with her under false pretenses. Anne made her feel safe, and though their different temperaments often led to them fighting, Max did enjoy Anne's company. She always knew where she stood with Anne, Anne was honest, and honest people were a rare thing in Max's life. She had not been planning a future reunion with Eleanor when she took Anne to bed. She had not been with Anne to pass time until Eleanor got her act together. She did truly care for Anne, but she could not deny Anne's words. She did love Eleanor, and she always had, despite the hurt and anger she had felt, she had never truly fallen out of love with Eleanor.

"I never meant to 'urt you," Max finally breathed out as she stood, though she stopped herself from reaching out for Anne again.

Anne made no response, not even a grunt.

The night before Max had angrily told Eleanor to speak to her. With her voice raised, she begged Eleanor to finally tell her what she was thinking and feeling after months of Eleanor holding her tongue. Max hadn't understood why Eleanor had so often refused to talk, and even after Eleanor had explained her reasons the night before, Max still hadn't truly understood. However, standing there before Anne, Max finally comprehended the invisible forces that had kept Eleanor quiet for so long. She understood how guilt, and shame and sorrow could rob a person of words. She wanted desperately to try and comfort Anne, for Anne in her gruff and stoic way, had been good to her, so very good to her. But Max knew she could not change how she felt, she could not change that her heart yearned for Eleanor or that her body burned with desire for her. Her feelings for Eleanor were hurting Anne, but Max could not change them, and she didn't know what to say or do to make things better, so as Eleanor so often had, Max lapsed into silence.

Helplessly, Max watched as Anne stalked over to the chair she had draped her jacket over and picked it up, pulling it on roughly before she snatched up her hat and placed it on her head.

"Anne," Max tried again when the woman began to walk towards the door. "The room at the end of the hall is unoccupied. You can-" she continued weakly, wanting to say so much more and do so much more, but having only this.

"Can find my own place to stay," Anne muttered, cutting Max off. She was silent for a moment, and then she looked at Max and said, "Don't take no more of 'er shit," before she opened the door and was gone.

"Baise," Max breathed out, collapsing onto her mattress dejectedly.

She felt like shit.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**PART III**

Eleanor was true to her word and Max did see her the day after their conversation on her terrace. When Max arrived at Eleanor's warehouse in the late morning, Eleanor was already there with her seamstress, Mrs. Le Feuvre, helping to prepare bolts of fabric for Max's perusal. When Eleanor spotted Max, a bright smile touched her lips and she quickly made her way over to Max before gallantly offering Max her arm. Max accepted the offer, and with their arms linked, Eleanor led Max over to the display of fabrics.

Inside of the warehouse they were hidden from public view, but Mrs. Le Feuvre's presence forced them to keep their conversation relatively casual. Eleanor had been commissioning dresses for Max for some time, and Eleanor was not under the impression that Mrs. Le Feuvre was ignorant to the nature of her relationship with Max. In front of her was no place to discuss the heavy issues that remained between however, so as Max and Eleanor walked amongst the fabrics, they spent their time talking about Max's plans and frivolous things, their time together passed quickly as they bantered back and forth, and laughed like neither of them had in a long time.

At one point during their perusal of the fabrics, while Mrs. Le Feuvre was occupied cutting one of the silks Max had selected, Eleanor slipped behind Max and wrapped her arms around the brunette's waist before whispering, "Which one's your favourite?" into her ear.

"Why?" Max asked suspiciously, angling her head back so that she could lift a questioning eyebrow at Eleanor.

"Because I promised you a dress, and I always keep my promises," Eleanor pronounced, pressing a kiss to Max's cheek.

Max didn't want to make winning her back too easy for Eleanor, but she could not stop herself from being charmed by Eleanor.

A smile spread across Max's lips as she gazed up at Eleanor.

"You do not 'ave to make a dress for Max," she said softly a few seconds later, looking away from Eleanor to watch her fingers as they ran over the swath of silk laid out before her.

"I know I don't have to. I want to," Eleanor stated sincerely, drawing her hand down Max's arm until she could take Max's hand into her own.

"Max thought you were 'aristocratically poor'. Can you even afford to dazzle Max with gifts?" Max asked playfully, arching a dark eyebrow as she grinned at Eleanor.

"First of all, 'ha-ha'," Eleanor said sarcastically in response to Max's jibe, her tone and words bringing a smile to Max's face. "Second of all," she continued as a sly, pleased smile stretched across her lips. "I've actually discovered a way to top up my income in these temporarily lean times."

Max waited for Eleanor to continue, but she did not and Max huffed and then poked Eleanor in the ribs.

"You know Max wants to know," Max said turning around her Eleanor's arms so that she could see her face. "Go on, you," she continued, reluctantly taking a step back when she noticed Mrs. Le Feuvre moving around again. The woman's back was still to them, but only for a moment or two more.

Eleanor smiled brightly, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"I'm going to sell all of my father's favourite things," she declared happily. "He left quite a lot behind before 'retiring'," she sneered the word, "to Harbour Island. I would one day like to make the man rue his very existence, but for now I'll settle for the small joy to be found in making him rue leaving behind those antique weapons and that rack of aged liquors."

Max laughed at that and shook her finger at Eleanor playfully. "Vous êtes un peu la merde."

Eleanor shrugged, unperturbed. It was true. She could definitely be quite the little shit when she put her mind to it.

"You still haven't told me which one's your favourite," Eleanor reminded Max a few seconds later.

"And I am not going to," Max replied, wandering amongst the fabrics again. "If you want to impress Max," she continued, pausing for a moment as she looked over her shoulder at Eleanor. "Pay attention and learn which one I favour."

"Very well," Eleanor responded, nodding her head solemnly. "I will."

xxx

Business, business partners, pirates, pirate captains, employees, consortium members, and a myriad of life's other daily irritants conspired to keep Max and Eleanor away from each other for the next few days, but eventually they again found themselves with time and the desire to spend it with each other.

Eleanor hardly spent any time at the Guthrie property north of the town, but she kept the house and grounds maintained, and that night she arranged for herself and Max to take a leisurely carriage ride along the scenic coastline, up to the Guthrie property where they would have dinner.

Eleanor had brought along a basket of wine and fruit for the ride to her family home, and the early part of the journey was spent in conversation as they drank and ate. Then, as the sun began to set, the basket was set aside and Max tucked herself against Eleanor's side, happily allowing Eleanor to hold her as the carriage wound its way up the coast.

Dinner was a simple but intimate affair set up on Eleanor's back porch. The small table was perfectly set on crisp, clean linen, and lit by candles. A pleasant breeze kept them cool in the humid night air and they leisurely enjoyed three courses of some of the best food Max had ever tasted.

"Max 'as some information you may be interested in?" Max began as they partook in some after dinner brandy.

"Oh?" Eleanor asked looking up, surprised by Max's words but trying not to let it show.

"Oui," Max breathed out, smiling a little. "About the foreign gentlemen Mr. Brimble is 'oping to woo at 'is party. From what Max 'as 'eard, I think these might be men you would be interested in as well."

"Why are you telling me this?" Eleanor asked curiously. "I thought I was only to get information on a need to know basis."

Max was quiet for a moment, her eyes focused past Eleanor on the dark, churning waters lapping at the sand at the edge of the property.

"Max 'as no interest in these men," she murmured eventually, allowing her eyes to drift back over to Eleanor. "There is no reason for you not to know."

"I see," Eleanor breathed out. "In that case, please continue."

After dinner, Eleanor took Max on a tour of the house. Some areas she breezed through with nary of word, but others they lingered in as Eleanor recounted fond memories.

The library was a place they meandered in for a while. The library had been a pet project of Eleanor's mother and Eleanor had spent a lot of time there when she was younger. She had learned to love books on her mother's lap, sitting on pillows in patches of sunlight on the library's wooden floor.

The garden was another area they tarried in. Eleanor confessed to not knowing very much about the subject and praised the skill of the gardener, Mr. Hughes, for keeping her mother's beloved plants alive and thriving. She did like to walk through the gardens on occasion though, as it reminded her laying around in grass when she was young, staring up at the sky as her mother worked the earth, defying the conventions of her social status and dirtying her very own hands. Eleanor had loved that about her mother, her assuredness, her dignity, the way she would not let other people's expectations define how she lived her life.

They ended the tour in Eleanor's childhood room, on Eleanor's childhood bed, with Eleanor on her back, and there they spent a long time sharing deep, leisurely kisses as their hands gently explored familiar plains and curves.

At one point Eleanor had started to laugh, and Max had pulled back and asked what was so amusing. Eleanor reassured her with a series and kisses that it wasn't anything Max had done that was making her laugh, it was just that she couldn't believe she finally had a girl in this bedroom, in this bed, after all of the nights she'd spent in that bed imagining sharing it with another girl romantically.

"And what were you doing when imagining these things?" Max purred into Eleanor's ear knowingly, rolling her hips seductively into Eleanor as she spoke.

"You know what I was doing," Eleanor breathed out as she leaned up, searching out Max's mouth and drawing her into a heated kiss.

"Tell me anyway," Max whispered.

Eleanor stared up at her for a few seconds, her pupils dilated and her lips parted, and for a second Max thought that Eleanor was going to resist. But almost as soon as the thought had occurred to Max, Eleanor released a shuddering breath and whispered, "I was touching myself."

"Did it feel good?" Max asked, drawing her hands up Eleanor's thighs.

"Yes," Eleanor panted. "It felt very good. Too good. I used to think I did it too often," she admitted.

"Such an overachiever," Max murmured as smile touched her lips.

Eleanor's eyes narrowed in displeasure as her cheeks coloured.

"Aww," Max cooed.

This riled Eleanor up and her lips parted to verbally respond to Max, however before she could speak a word, Max leaned down and kissed her.

The last time they had found themselves sharing a heated embrace, Eleanor had been the one to put a stop to it. This time however, it was Max who drew things to a close, and Eleanor collapsed against her, her chest rising and falling deeply as she laid her head over Max's heart.

"Will you spend the night?" Eleanor asked softly, searching out Max's hand and then taking hold of it. "To sleep. Only. I swear," she continued when Max hesitated to respond. "I miss the feel of your body against mine. I want to hold you again."

"Max wants that too," Max breathed out softly, and then, as a sweet smile stretched across Eleanor's lips, Max kissed her again.

xxx

Max and Eleanor saw each other for at least an hour or so over the next few days, but in the last three days leading up to Brimble's party and Max's event, they were lucky if they were able to share a quick drink together before someone came searching for Max to drag her back to _La Maison de Renard_.

The night before Max's extravaganza however, Eleanor showed up at Max's door, intent on sharing a few tender moments with Max on the eve of her big night.

"I won't keep you long," Eleanor promised as she slipped into the room.

"Max wouldn't mind if you did," Max replied, a sweet smile touching her lips as Eleanor pressed a kiss to her cheek in greeting.

"It warms my heart to hear you say that," Eleanor breathed out, waiting for Max to lock the door and turn to face her again before she continued. "But I would not dream of robbing you of your sleep on the eve of such an important event."

"You just want your money back," Max teased as she took Eleanor's hand and began to lead her towards the bed.

"Well, yes," Eleanor breathed out, and Max laughed as they took a seat on the bed. "I thought," Eleanor began in a more serious tone of voice, "What I mean to say is that, as entrepreneurs, when we enter a new venture it is, in a way, like marching into battle. Our lives can be put at risk, as well as our safety, and our futures. And so, before you march into combat tomorrow, I wanted to give you a token … for luck."

"I think most knights were taller than Max," Max breathed out.

"They may have been taller but they were not nearly as tough," Eleanor replied dotingly, smiling at Max. "This is for you," she continued, reaching into a small pouch she had clipped to her belt. A few moments later she held out her hand to Max, offering her a square box.

"What is it?" Max whispered.

Eleanor smiled.

"Take it and find out."

Max reached out and took the box from Eleanor's hand. What Max found inside was a beautifully crafted ivory ornamental comb.

"Eleanor," Max gasped. She didn't know how much a comb like that would have cost, but she knew that it was expensive and she had already helped to spread Eleanor's finances too thin. "It is beautiful, but it is too expensive. You should not 'ave -"

"Max," Eleanor interjected lightly, a small smile tugging up the corners of her lips. "It's fine. I promise you I haven't spent more money that I do not have," she continued lightly. "The comb belonged to my mother," she explained. "A token must hold value to the giver to bring luck to the recipient. This was left to me by the person I loved most in the world, and now I give it to the person I love most in the world."

If Eleanor planned on saying more, she never got the chance to, for Max leaned over and pressed their lips together, kissing her deeply.

"Stay awhile," Max whispered against Eleanor's lips, in between kisses.

"Okay," Eleanor breathed out immediately, and Max laughed into her mouth as she tugged Eleanor down with her as she lay back on the bed.

To be continued...

Comments are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Please don't be shy, any feedback at all is helpful, especially with multi-chapter stories :)


	4. Chapter 4

**PART IV**

When Eleanor arrived at _La Maison de Renard_ just after one in the morning, the building was packed. Once the sun went down the brothel usually drew a large crowd, but Eleanor had never seen the place as crowded as it was on that night. She had to fight her way through a mass of people just to make it inside of the building, and she had to continue to fight to make it to the slightly less crowded rear of the building where the din of noise finally lowered enough that she could hear herself think.

A heavy hand landed on Eleanor's shoulder and a shot of adrenaline spiked through her as she turned her head to the side to see who had touched her.

"Oh," she breathed out in relief.

It was only Johan, one of the men she had sent over to the brothel to help keep order. Max had hired additional security, but Eleanor knew and trusted her men and she had insisted that Max accept their presence.

"Mistress Guthrie," Johan greeted, nodding his head respectfully.

"Johan," Eleanor replied fondly, offering him an affectionate smile. "Don't tell me trouble is already brewing. The festivities haven't even begun."

"No, no, nothing like that," Johan assured her quickly. "It's just … she reserved a table for you," he continued, his voice lowering confidentially though with the level of noise in the room no one would have been able to overhear them. "I'm supposed to seat you," Johan finished, indicating the direction they would need to head in.

Eleanor was touched by Max's thoughtfulness and relieved as well. She had not been looking forward to being jostled and fighting off drunks for the entire night. When she saw the booth Johan brought her to however, her skin flushed and a crooked little smile touched her lips.

Max had reserved for her the booth that Eleanor had been seated at the first night she had truly caught Max's attention. Eleanor hadn't known at the time that she had caught Max's eyes on that night, but later, once they had become more familiar with each other, Max had told her the story.

Pirates liked music and they especially like music sung to them by pretty girls, so on occasion Noonan had allowed the women who worked for him to pick up some extra coin by singing for the sailors. Eleanor had come by the brothel one night to speak to Noonan about some concerns she had, but on that night Max had been standing in front of the fire place in the middle of a song, and captivated, Eleanor had slipped into a nearby booth to listen.

According to Max 'listening', as done by Eleanor, consisted of undressing Max with her eyes, staring intently at Max's chest, and smiling to herself when Max's movements revealed her thighs. Eleanor had taken umbrage to this characterization of her behavior that night, but she had been enchanted by Max's beauty and angelic voice and so she had come to accept that some of her attraction to Max must have showed outwardly. After all, Max _had_ started shamelessly flirting with her after that night, and not long after that they had gone to bed together for the first time.

Eleanor was only halfway through her first drink when the first of the unwanted guests she would have to suffer through that evening took a seat at the far end of the booth.

The first of her uninvited table companions was Ben Hornigold, who engaged her in a passive aggressive tête-à-tête for the better part of ten minutes before he finally took his leave. After that, Capt. Naft dropped by, and Eleanor had a pleasant, though dull, conversation with him. Naft was looking forward to the show, so much so that a few times Eleanor had to fight the urge to laugh. But, Naft was genuinely complimentary towards Max and how much she had improved things around the brothel, and Eleanor found herself a little disappointed when he left, if for no other reason than a sinking feeling that the next person to join her at the table would not be so agreeable a companion.

"Pleasant evening."

"It was," Eleanor muttered, sighing deeply as Charles Vane took the seat opposite her.

Vane ignored her comment, continuing on as if she hadn't spoken.

"The place looks good. It's shaping up to be a fine event you're putting on."

Eleanor sighed again before saying, "I've nothing to do with tonight's festivities."

"That Turkish arquebus Pardo bought from you last week says otherwise," Vane observed slyly as he reached out to catch the arm of a passing wench to order a drink.

"Does it?" Eleanor asked bored of this conversation before it had started.

"She'll suck you dry," Vane warned as he turned back around. "She'll bleed you until there's nothing left."

"Fuck you," Eleanor spit at him, staring at him hatefully. "Why the fuck did you even come over here?"

"It's not just the money," Vane continued and Eleanor's clenched. "You were just starting to gain back some of the favour you lost defending her the last time, ca-"

"Defending her from your fucking men," Eleanor interjected angrily.

"You know I had nothing to do with that," Vane said, sliding further towards Eleanor, seeking out her anger instead of running from it.

He loved to see Eleanor's eyes blazing with passion. He loved provoking such emotion from her. Seeing that depth of feeling in her eyes, seeing her on the edge of losing control like that never failed to make him hard. It didn't matter to him whether it was anger or lust that she burned with, so long as she burned.

"I don't know that, and I don't fucking believe it. If you hadn't -"

"If you hadn't been fucking me at the time maybe you would've been able to do something about it. Hell, maybe I would have been able to do something about it. But we'll never know, will we?"

Eleanor's jaw clenched and her chest rose and fell violently with the effort it was taking her to control herself. She wanted to fling herself across the bench and strangle him with her bare hands. She wanted to walk over to the next table, rip the man's fork out of his hand and then stab it repeated into the softest, fleshiest parts of Vane's body before finally sinking it into his eye. She wanted to hurl every single curse would she knew at him and then threaten to cut his balls off and throw them into the sea.

"I tried to get her off the island," Vane began in a placating tone, seeming to realize that Eleanor's silence was the dangerous kind, the volatile kind. "I never touched her-"

"Shut up," Eleanor ground out before he could finish.

She knew she needed to keep a lid on her anger. He controlled the fort now, and as much as she hated to admit it, it meant that she could no longer punish him and curse him with the near perfect impunity she had before. She would not tread carefully with him, but she could not stomp around in lead boots either. She needed to stay in control.

"She choose to come with us. I was in no position to stop her if she wanted to leave with you, but she -"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Eleanor hissed, her lip curling up viciously as she glared at him.

"It's true. I know you want to blame me for everything bad that happens on this fucking island, but-"

"I said 'shut up' Charles!" Eleanor exclaimed angrily, cutting him off once again. "I may have to work with you, for now, but I don't like you. You are a festering, pus filled wound and I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Ever," Eleanor hissed, leaning forward aggressively. "You're not a fucking innocent. What happened wasn't out of your fucking control. You were just too cowardly to stand up to your crew, like a fucking man, so you threw Max to them for time and favour. Fuck your excuses and fuck you, Charles! Fuck you forever!"

"Eleanor," Vane began, his tone mollifying.

"Get up and walk away or one of us isn't leaving this fucking table alive," Eleanor ground out, her eyes shimmering wrathfully in the torch light.

Vane was quiet and still for a moment as he gazed back at her, his chest rising and falling quickly with the effort to contain himself.

"What is it about her?" he asked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them, his voice a curious mixture of bewilderment and pain. "Why do you love her so much?" he added softly, his formerly hostile position relaxing until he sat across from Eleanor with his shoulders slumped.

He didn't understand Eleanor's attachment to Max. He never had. Max was beautiful, he had eyes, he could see that, but beauty alone wasn't enough to ensnare Eleanor to the degree Max had. But what else was there? What advantage did Max have over him?

He was strong. People feared his name. He was a powerful ally to have, especially now that he controlled the fort. He could make Eleanor stronger, as she could help strengthen his position on the island, her name giving him a legitimacy his own name lacked.

He was useful. He could contribute. She had seen that he was an asset once. She had seen something in him. But it didn't matter how much he had to offer. It didn't matter how much he loved her. She always picked Max, always. But why? He just couldn't understand why. What did Max have that he, didn't? What did Max give Eleanor that he hadn't? What was it about Max that made Eleanor willing to throw away her reputation, her business, and very nearly her life for her? He came to Eleanor with offers of protection and the promise of greater power, but despite that Eleanor still chose to chase after a whore in a pretty dress instead of coming back to him.

Eleanor's lips parted, readying to spew vitriol in Vane's direction, but as she looked at him – hangdog and boyish – the sharpest edge of her anger dulled slightly and she took a deep, calming breath.

"You need to stop this Charles," Eleanor sighed tiredly.

"Then answer me," Vane said insistently. "Why her?"

"Because I love her," Eleanor exclaimed. "What more is there to say?"

Max made her heart sing. Max's hands had brought her nothing but comfort and pleasure. In Max's presence, she felt safe and valued. Max accepted her and cherished her for who she was, flaws and all, and that acceptance had freed Eleanor to be herself with Max in a way that she had never allowed herself be with anyone else. Max was intelligent, and observant, and clever, and talking with her stimulated Eleanor's mind as well as her body. Max was kind, and funny, and forceful, and passionate, and nurturing, and playful, and shrewd and protective. She was … she was perfect, for Eleanor she was perfect. Without her, Eleanor felt lesser; she felt hollow, she felt incomplete. She chose Max because she loved Max, and she would always choose Max for the same reason.

"I love you," Vane stated plaintively.

Eleanor was still and silent for a moment as she fought the urge to sneer in disdain. Provoking him in this setting, on this subject, was not wise, but she did not want to do or say anything to encourage his belief that he had any chance of winning her back.

Charles did not love her. He was not capable of the type of love a real relationship demanded. If his words could be trusted, which she highly doubted, then he _thought_ that he was in love with her, but that was only because he did not know the difference between healthy passion and unhealthy passion, between obsession and love. He was fixated on her, he wanted her, but his desire to have her wasn't love – and if it was she did not want his version of it, not again. She had barely survived it the first time.

Whatever it was he felt for her had left her bruised, it had made her feel weak and dirty and ashamed of herself. Whatever it was they had had together had been a poison that had eaten away at her joy, and her dignity, and her sense of self-worth, corrupting her from the inside out. What they had been doing together had driven her to the bottle and she was certain that if she had not ended things between them that it would have killed her – either through the effects of drink or his hands around her neck during one of their fights.

Eleanor did not doubt that Charles felt strongly about her, but it was not and never had been love. She knew that now, loving Max and being loved by her had taught Eleanor that. Where once she too had been confused, Max had shown her the difference.

"I hear you, Charles," Eleanor began carefully. It was Max's night and she did not want Charles to create a scene. "I am not deaf to your words, or your actions of late," she continued, acknowledging out loud for the first time that she had in fact noticed that he had been less vile than usual for the past couple months. "But I love her," she stated firmly, her voice strong and sure. "I know that's not what you want to hear, but I cannot change my heart – though if I could I would not wish to. Whether it makes sense to you, or me, or anyone else of this fucking island, I love Max. You must accept this if there is any chance for us to peacefully co-exist."

Vane leaned forward as if preparing for another attack, but he didn't say anything, he just stared at her.

"I could lay the world at your feet," he said eventually.

"She has given me the sun, the moon and all of the stars in the sky," Eleanor replied softly. "She has opened up the very heavens to me. I can't go back to the world."

Vane remained seated for a few seconds after Eleanor spoke, and then without a word he rose to his feet and walked away, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Eleanor sighed in relief as she lost sight of him and quickly downed the rest of her drink before lifting her hand to motion for another.

"You should not drink when you are angry," Max murmured, pushing Eleanor's hand down as she moved to take a seat on the blonde's lap.

"I'm not angry," Eleanor replied as her left hand automatically lifted and settled in the small of Max's back, helping to support her.

Eleanor's eyes roved over Max as she gazed up at her, and her heart warmed as she spotted her mother's comb in Max's hair.

"'e always makes you angry," Max breathed out, lifting her hand so that she could smooth her thumb over the skin between Eleanor's eyes, which her scowling had made wrinkle.

"You were watching?" Eleanor asked, looking up at her. "Why didn't you send a lackey over to rescue me?"

"Rescue," Max repeated, her tone teasingly incredulous as she looked down at Eleanor. "Since when do you need Max to save you?"

"I always need you," Eleanor breathed out earnestly.

Max smiled at her warmly and stroked her cheek tenderly.

"Max will thank you for the compliment later, when we are no longer surrounded by our admirers," Max replied, cutting her eyes subtly to the side.

Less subtly, Eleanor followed her gaze and discovered that quite a few of the people around them were openly watching their interaction. She couldn't find it within herself to care however. The sexual nature of her relationship with Max had not been a secret once Noonan had found out about it, and after her wrathful attack on Vane and his crew two months before the depth of her feelings for Max had not been a secret either.

"You did promise them a show," Eleanor murmured, turning back to Max.

"There is not enough money in the world to buy them a seat to that show," Max whispered into Eleanor's ear, making Eleanor smile. "Max does 'ave something for you though," she continued slyly, and Eleanor looked up at her curiously. "The foreign gentlemen who were of interest to Mr. Brimble are with Marie, over there, by the bar."

Eleanor turned her head to follow Max's gaze.

"I see the gentlemen in question, and yet I do not see Mr. Brimble," she observed.

"Perhaps, this is more their type of crowd than the one assembled at Brimble's," Max breathed into Eleanor's ear, the warm, familiar caress making Eleanor's eyelashes flutter. "They 'ave been 'ere for a while. They must 'ave left 'is party early. They are … I believe the term is, ripe for the picking."

Eleanor's eyes held on the men for a few seconds longer, already strategizing ways to approach them, but when she moved again it was not to get up.

"I'm sure the fruit won't spoil over the next few hours," she said, angling her head towards Max. "I'll see to them after the show."

"If they left Brimble's early, they may leave 'ere early too," Max warned.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Eleanor stated firmly, no trace of doubt in her voice.

In the past, she would have gone to speak to the gentlemen without hesitation, but in the past she had taken Max's presence in her life for granted. They had begun to move forward and repair their damaged relationship, but the weight of the choice she had made all those months ago still bore down on her shoulders. Max did not voice her concerns, but Eleanor knew that she must still have them, and Eleanor did not want to give Max further cause to doubt her.

"I'm not asking you to," Max said softly. "This is not a sacrifice you 'ave to make," she continued, smiling down at Eleanor. "I cannot stay 'ere with you," she went on gently. "There are many things that need tending to and Max must see to them. You go on," Max said, tilting her head in the direction of the foreign gentlemen. "This is not a test. Max will not 'old it against you."

"Really, Max. It can wait. It's-"

"Eleanor," Max cut in gently.

"Yes?"

"Do I need to command you?" Max asked, arching a dark eyebrow at her.

"No," Eleanor breathed out, "but I might like it," she added as her lips curved up wickedly.

"Might," Max purred, leaning down to speak into Eleanor's ear, "is not a word that should fall from your lips when you speak of Max and pleasure."

Eleanor looked up at her, and the expression of wanton desire on her face would have been completely scandalous if they had not been in brothel.

Max smiled down at her and then leaned down to press a light kiss to Eleanor's cheek.

"Go on," she told Eleanor, before slipping off of her lap. "The show will start soon. If you must stay in one place, stay at their table where drink and visual delights will 'elp create an atmosphere advantageous to your cause."

"Are you sure?" Eleanor asked, part of her mind strategizing and plotting even as she looked to Max for final approval.

"Oui," Max breathed out before she took a step back and held out her hand to Eleanor to help her to her feet. "And Eleanor," she called out when the blonde made to step away from her.

Eleanor turned to look at her, attentive as a puppy.

"Get them to buy more drinks," Max told her and Eleanor grinned at her widely before she finally waded into the crowd and disappeared, a jungle cat in search of her prey.

To be continued...

Comments are always welcome and are greatly appreciated! Please don't be shy, any feedback at all is helpful, especially with multi-chapter stories :)


	5. Chapter 5

**PART V**

The brothel began to clear out just before the sky began to lighten. All of the girls had found company hours before and disappeared from the main floor, but the band was still there and able to hold their instruments, the fire still blazed, and there was still rum to be drank, so the revelry had gone on.

When the rum finally ran out however, people slowly began to trickle away, and an hour after the last drop of glorious amber nectar had been poured, Max was able to close the doors to _La Maison de Renard_.

With the brothel locked down, Max bid goodnight to the guards on duty, and then made her way towards the stairs. Her feet ached, her back ached, and she was so exhausted that walking became an almost impossible task, but despite all of that, a happy smile was etched across Max's lips as she trudged her way up the stairs. A smile that only grew when she walked into her room and saw what was waiting for her inside.

When Max walked into her room, she found Eleanor waiting for her, her back resting against the frame of the bed as she sat on the floor in front of it. Eleanor's arms hung heavy at her sides and her head was dipped down slightly, obscuring her face from Max's view.

"Max thought you 'ad gone 'ome," Max breathed out as she approached Eleanor.

Eleanor's head bopped up from its downward position at the sound of Max's voice. Her eyelashes fluttered, attempting to open, but sleep was still heavy upon her and her head dipped down again as she slipped back into Morpheus's realm.

Charmed by the sight, Max crouched down in front of Eleanor and pressed her lips against Eleanor's cheek. This drew a soft sound from Eleanor, and unconsciously Eleanor turned into Max's body, seeking out more warmth.

"Wake up," Max whispered into Eleanor's ear before giving her shoulder a shake.

Eleanor blinked up at her in sleepy, disgruntled confusion.

"My back hurts," She complained, both bewildered and upset. "Max," she added a moment later, though that was all she added so Max was none the wiser as to what it was Eleanor actually wanted.

"Femme enfant," _Woman child_, Max whispered, shaking her head.

Eleanor's sleepy grumpiness warmed her heart however, and despite her words, Max smiled down at Eleanor affectionately and slipped Eleanor's arm over her shoulder before she began to haul the blonde to her feet.

"Where...?" Eleanor asked, blinking confusedly as she leaned heavily upon Max, depending on the brunette to keep her upright as she struggled to fully wake up. "When did ... oh," she exclaimed happily, sounding increasingly alert. "I remember."

"Remember what?" Max asked as she helped Eleanor shift into sitting on the bed.

"I couldn't find you downstairs," Eleanor murmured as she settled herself. "I wanted to say goodnight, so I thought I'd just wait for you here. I must have dozed o … is it light out?" Eleanor asked recoiling slightly as if the light pained her.

"'ow long were sitting there?" Max asked, laughing as she took a seat beside Eleanor.

"Long enough that I should have chosen a softer surface to rest on," Eleanor sighed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why did you not?" Max asked curiously.

She had been bewildered by Eleanor's choice of resting spots since she walked into her room.

Eleanor's skin flushed in response to Max's question and she averted her gaze, embarrassed.

"I'd already taken a liberty letting myself in," Eleanor began uncomfortably.

She hadn't planned on going into the room to wait for Max, but she had felt awkward standing outside of Max's door as hoards of people traipsed up and down the stairs, eyeballing her on their way past. She could have endured the stares however, but when she found herself leaning heavily against the doorframe for support as she struggled to stay awake, she knew she couldn't stay out in the open. She had pondered going back to her office to sleep at that point, but she'd still wanted to see Max, so she decided to use the key that Max had given a year before to get into the room. After things had gone wrong between them Eleanor knew that she should have removed the key from the ring she carried with her, but she hadn't been able to force herself to do it.

"I didn't want to … presume anymore," Eleanor continued, glancing over at Max cautiously, hoping that Max was not too upset with her.

There had been a time when she wouldn't have hesitated to make herself at home in Max's room, but those days had passed and presently Eleanor was not certain how Max would have felt about her resting on the bed uninvited. There were chairs in the room of course, but Eleanor knew from past experience that they were extremely uncomfortable and decided that the floor would actually be gentler on her.

"Max is glad you're 'ere," Max breathed out gently, reaching out for Eleanor's hand and taking it into her own, hoping to ease some of the anxiety she could read in Eleanor's eyes and see in her stiff posture. "And I am touched by your consideration. But I would not 'ave you 'urt when you do not need to. Be comfortable next time," Max told her, and Eleanor gave her small, shy smile and nodded her head. "Does your back still pain you?"

Eleanor shrugged which Max knew meant yes.

Max released Eleanor's hand and then slipped off the bed so that she was left standing in front of Eleanor.

"Maybe Max can make you feel better," she purred, mounting Eleanor smoothly.

Eleanor gazed up at her as Max settled herself on her lap.

"This is part where I kiss you, isn't it?" Eleanor asked cheekily.

"It 'ad better be," Max breathed, her voice playfully warning.

"Oh, don't worry," Eleanor murmured, "This is one of my favourite parts."

She smiled wickedly and then stretched up to capture Max's lips.

"One of?" Max breathed into Eleanor's mouth. "What are the others?"

"They're all covered up at the moment," Eleanor husked against Max's lips, nipping friskily at the bottom one before drawing Max back into another kiss.

Max smiled against Eleanor's lips and brought her hands up to the blonde's shoulders, sighing as Eleanor's tongue slipped into her mouth and began to explore.

Max applied some pressure to Eleanor's shoulders with her hands.

"Wha-" Eleanor gasped as she suddenly found herself in movement. "Oh," she smiled a second later when her back connected with the mattress, leaving Max lording over her.

Max leaned down and Eleanor stretched up, meeting Max's lips halfway. Max released a soft laugh as Eleanor's hands tugged at her, and she allowed Eleanor to draw her down on top of her.

Their kisses were slow and undemanding as their hands gently ran over each other's thighs, and hips, and breasts, gently exploring and teasing for minutes on end before the dizzying effects of Eleanor's mouth, and the exhaustion she had been feeling before, finally caught up with Max.

Max buried her face in Eleanor's neck, and then simply lay against her, too tired to move.

"Max?" Eleanor asked a minute later when Max did not stir.

Max found herself blinking her eyes open though she hadn't remembered closing them.

"… are … awake …"

Eleanor's voice reached her in fragments.

"… even hear … … and fire was invented by my Uncle Alfred who, it happens, was a cat …"

Max made a sound in her throat.

"Oh, so you can hear me. What? … You're not fine … Max, you're not … you don't know what you're saying…"

Max was vaguely aware of movement as Eleanor's voice washed over her. It was hard to concentrate. She felt like she was rolling gently to the side, the dozing occupant of a boat tethered to a dock.

"…Max? … Max are you still awake?"

Max managed to make a sound of some sort, and this seemed to placate Eleanor who went back to rowing the boat.

Were they on a boat?

No.

Then what was Eleanor doing?

"… almost done … just need to … tucked beneath the …"

Max twitched and kicked.

Something was touching her legs.

"It's not going to … it's just the blanket … Max it's … it's just …"

Eleanor started to laugh and though she was not conscious of doing it, Max smiled as the sound of Eleanor's laughter washed over her.

Max's body relaxed, and Eleanor was finally able to get her under the covers.

"… must have … handful as a baby …"

Max knew she must have drifted off for a second or two because she was aware of jerking awake suddenly.

Something was wrong. Something had changed. Something had happened and it had woken her up. But what …

Max's hand twitched and then began to move, searching the area around her.

It was bare.

Eleanor … where was Eleanor?

Eleanor had been there, she was sure of it.

"El…" Max began, a touch of alarm in her voice.

"Shh," Eleanor breathed, reaching out to take Max's hand reassuringly. "I'll be with you again momentarily," she said, placing a kiss on the back of Max's hand before she drew her hand back and retreated from the mattress.

Too long for Max, though not really very long at all, Eleanor slipped onto the bed beside Max and settled herself under the sheet. Once she stilled, Max instinctively shifted towards her and snuggled up against her, and Eleanor very happily accepted her into her arms.

"Ellie?" Max managed to murmur.

"I'm here," Eleanor whispered.

"Bien," Max exhaled, and then, like a candle being blown out, her eyes closed and she slept.

THE NEXT MORNING

When Max awoke later that day, her room was bathed in light and Eleanor was curled around her body, her head resting on Max's chest, like Max was her favourite stuffed toy.

Eleanor was still fast asleep, so Max was careful not to move too much and disturb her. Eleanor was not necessarily an early riser, but her internal clock got her up earlier than Max most mornings, which meant that when they had been together before, it had been the rare morning that Max had been able to watch Eleanor as she slept – and Max loved watching Eleanor sleep.

Eleanor slept with a peacefulness that eluded her during her waking hours. It sometimes took her a while to fall asleep, but once she was asleep, she slept soundly - no matter what crises she had dealt with during the day or would have to face when she woke up in the morning. It fascinated and confounded Max that someone so full of tension and worry could sleep so peacefully, but she happily accepted it as just another one of the wonderful contradictions that made up Eleanor Guthrie.

"Tickles," Eleanor muttered sleepily, shifting restlessly against Max.

Max smiled at the sound of her voice.

Eleanor might have slept peacefully, but she always woke up mildly disgruntled.

Max stopped stroking Eleanor's arm and took the blonde's hand into her own instead.

"Thank," Eleanor began softly, but partway through the word she drifted back to sleep.

In the minutes that followed, Max tried to stay still – not wanting to disturb Eleanor – but after spending most of the previous day, and all of the previous night, on her feet, Max's back was aching and the position she was in making it worse.

Eleanor made a small sound of complaint when Max shifted, but when Max settled into a more comfortable position, Eleanor relaxed into her again, and Max thought that she might have successfully completed the maneuver without waking Eleanor. After a few seconds of stillness however, Eleanor began to move, and about a minute after Max had first changed position, Eleanor lifted her head and blinked sleepily at Max.

"Good morning," Max smiled as Eleanor squinted at her.

"Is it?" Eleanor grumbled sullenly.

Max laughed and moved her hands to Eleanor's shoulders which she then began to vigorously shake. She knew Eleanor wouldn't like it, but it was the quickest way to get Eleanor's brain going - and it was a little funny.

"I'm awake. For the love of God, Max!" Eleanor exclaimed, lifting her hand to try and bat Max's hand away.

Max drew back her hands and Eleanor stared at her suspiciously for a moment before she lowered her hand and huffed at Max.

"Even Nanny Jenkins was gentler than that, and Nanny Jenkins was a monster," Eleanor griped, pouting as she gazed at Max.

"'ow could she 'ave been a monster, if she 'elped raise an angel like you?" Max cooed, smiling adoringly at the blonde before she sat up and extended her hand towards Eleanor, attempting to pinch her cheek.

Eleanor dodged her hand, once, twice and three times before Max finally laughed softly and withdrew her hand, allowing Eleanor to resume pouting.

"Do not give Max that face," Max said, giving Eleanor a serious look.

Eleanor continued pouting and it started to break Max's heart.

"Max may have been a bit rough," Max allowed a few seconds later, and Eleanor's pout retreated slightly. "But Max also thinks you will not be wishing for Nanny Jenkins touch for long," she purred, leaning towards Eleanor and bringing their lips together.

Eleanor returned her kiss eagerly, lifting her hands to cup Max's face. As they kissed, Eleanor leaned into Max's body, and Max flowed back, lying down against the mattress once again. Max drew her foot up Eleanor's calf and rolled her hips into her body. Eleanor moaned deeply into her mouth and ran her hand up Max's thigh, kneading the firm, smooth flesh anxiously with her hand before she applied the slightest pressure against the inside of Max's leg, encouraging Max to spread for her.

Max happily obliged her and Eleanor slipped between her thighs as Max took control of the kiss, dominating Eleanor's mouth as Eleanor's hands clutched at her hips.

Max's hands took hold of the thin shirt covering Eleanor's body and began to tug it up. Eleanor started to mirror Max's motions, attempting to rid Max of the shirt that covered her, but before she could hitch the material higher than Max's hips, Max's hand found its way between her legs and Eleanor gasped into her mouth and instinctively bucked into Max's hand.

Eleanor was ready for her, and Max explored her womanhood leisurely, reacquainting herself with the slick warmth and sensitive flesh she had once known so well.

"Max," Eleanor moaned a few minutes later, sounding almost pained, as she turned her head, angling it away from Max. "We should stop," she panted, looking down at Max beseechingly with kiss swollen lips as her chest heaved.

She looked delicious and she felt even better against Max's fingers.

Max did not want to stop.

"We should not," Max breathed out, reaching out for Eleanor, attempting to draw Eleanor's mouth back to hers.

"If we continue," Eleanor murmured, dropping her eyes ashamedly, "if you keep touching me, I'm not sure …," she paused, releasing a shuddering breath. "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep myself from spending," she whispered, unable to meet Max's eyes.

She was not usually so quickly brought to the edge, but Max's touch had always had a powerful effect on her, and she had been without it for so long. She did not want to pull away from Max, she did not want to stop touching, but they had not yet made love, and Eleanor did not want to risk her body taking her to a point beyond what Max was currently comfortable with.

"I want to 'ave you," Max husked, tilting her head to the side and chasing Eleanor's eyes until the blonde finally looked up at her. "I want to give you pleasure. Do _you_ want to stop?" she asked softly, holding Eleanor's eyes intently.

Eleanor's eyes fluttered closed as she breathed out tremulously, then shook her head. Her eyes blinked open a moment later, and when she looked up into Max's face, the raw desire Max saw in their shining baby blue depths made her ache with so much love and need that it momentarily robbed her of breath.

She knew how to soothe the ache however, she knew what she needed, and Max leaned up and captured Eleanor's lips, drawing Eleanor into a deep kiss as her fingers went back to work to between Eleanor's legs.

To be continued ...

Comments are always welcome and greatly appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

**PART VI**

Eleanor had only been in her office for a few minutes when the door flung open and Scott hurried inside.

"Eleanor," he began urgently.

"What is it?" Eleanor asked, Scott's tone and manner causing her heartbeat to quicken with worry. "Scott," she demanded a moment later, her voice high and sharp as her nerves started to get the best of her.

Eleanor's mind went to Max, she remembered hearing Max's screams piercing the night air and the sight of Max battered and covered in blood, cowering on the ground. A part of Eleanor knew that she had only just left Max minutes ago and that surely nothing so dire could have happened to her in such a short period of time, but another part of Eleanor knew that a second was enough to change everything. It was unlikely, but something could have happened. Something could have …

"It's Flint," Scott said, turning to check that the office doors were firmly shut before he strode towards Eleanor.

Eleanor's heartbeat began to slow, relief flooding through her.

Max was fine.

Nothing had harmed her.

Eleanor released a shuddering breath and her mind – now free from fear – began to clear, allowing her to focus properly on what Scott was saying.

"What about Flint?" she asked.

"He's back," Scott stated, coming to a stop in front of Eleanor. "He's here. The _Nebuchadnezzar_ found his crew … what was left of his crew," Scott amended, "on an island to the south." Scott paused for a moment, and then sighed and lowered his head, giving it a faint shake. "He's asking to see you."

Eleanor's heart began to pound anew, this time with excitement instead of worry, and it took all of her concentration not to let the smile she felt in her heart show on her face.

She'd known he wasn't dead. She'd felt it in her bones. Yes, obstacles had been thrown in their way, but she and Flint were not people to be defeated by challenge. They were people who rose to the occasion, who pressed coal into diamonds. They were survivors, they were thrivers. They had nine lives.

"Where is he?"

Scott sighed deeply, but the wings of hope fluttering in Eleanor's chest would not let her be swayed by his disappointment.

"Scott," Eleanor said, looking at him reproachfully. "Where is he?"

"With the Barlow woman."

"I see," Eleanor breathed out, her gaze drifting to the side for a moment as she lost herself in thought. "Will you accompany me?" she continued, leaving speculation behind to deal with the here and now. "I feel more confident in all things with you by my side, but I understand if you cannot."

Scott watched her for a moment, his expression indecipherable, and then he extended his hand in Eleanor's direction and said, "Come."

Eleanor smiled at him and moved into the center of the room to join him. Scott's expression remained cool as Eleanor smiled at him, but she would not be dissuaded by him pulling a face, so she kissed his cheek and then linked their arms together, leading him towards the door.

"You're a mad girl Eleanor," Scott sighed as they exited the office. "This man is cursed. Everything around him dies. First Billy, now Gates-"

"Gates?" Eleanor gasped, turning to look up at Scott, surprise writ clearly on her face.

Scott nodded solemnly.

"Fuck," Eleanor breathed out, pained.

She had liked Gates.

Scott stopped walking and their linked arms meant Eleanor was quickly drawn to a halt too.

"Eleanor," Scott said lowly. "I beg of you. Do not continue with this doomed pursuit. Cut him loose while you still can. Your life is more important than your investment."

Eleanor gazed up into his serious, pleading eyes, and she breathed in deeply.

"He's not cursed, Scott," Eleanor breathed out gently. "I know you have my best interests at heart, but I assure you so do I. Flint is not haunted by the Furies. The gods do not hate him," she continued softly, smiling good-naturedly at Scott. "I will be cautious, but I must hear him out. For the moment we are still partners, and … he is also my friend. I shan't turn my back on him without letting him have his say," Eleanor continued resolutely. "Will you take me to him?"

"Yes," Scott sighed.

He was sure she was walking them into disaster, but he could not turn his back on her.

"Thank you," Eleanor said sincerely.

Scott sighed again, deeply, but nonetheless turned his eyes towards the exit and began lead Eleanor towards it, resigned to his fate.

**EVENING**

Max was in the kitchen helping to prepare jugs of coconut water and lime juice for later that night, when the more affluent customers had arrived. When added to rum, the coconut water and lime juice created a drink that Max called _Ambroisie_. The concoction had been extremely popular among the moneyed patrons the previous night, and Max did not want to run out of ingredients as they had the night before. The coconut water and lime juice cost virtually nothing, but the nobles were willing to pay twice the price of a shot of rum for the 'exotic' drink, which made it in Max's best interests to ensure that the supply would be able to keep up with the demand.

"Max!"

Max looked up from the cutting board to find one of her girls, Marie, walking quickly towards her, looking flustered.

"What is it?" Max asked.

She put down the knife she had been holding and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Two pirates out there," Marie said, pointing emphatically at the doors of the kitchen. "They's started talkin' real mean to each other and I knows it's gonna get worse. They ain't using fists yet though so Abe don't wanna do nothing 'bout it."

Max sighed and removed the apron. She would need to have a little talk later with Abe about the importance of preventing conflict so that one would not have to worry about having to clean up in the aftermath of a conflict.

"Show me," Max breathed out, and Marie led her away.

When they reached the public area of the main floor it did not take Max long to spot the trouble. What she saw were two men were hurling curses at each other in loud voices, but no weapons had been drawn yet and no tables had been turned over, which was something at least.

As Max approached the arguing men, she saw Abe finally making his way towards them and held up her hand, silently telling him to stay where he was. She was out there now, so she'd try to deal with it, but if the pirates became belligerent she'd need to make use of him.

"Bonjour messieurs," Max began, smiling brightly as she walked up to them. "Is there a problem? Per'aps Max can 'elp."

There was a problem, but it was difficult for Max to determine exactly what it was when both of the men turned to her and began to talk loudly, quickly, and at the same time. However, from the way they were both gesturing at one of her girls, Mercy, Max felt comfortable assuming that the problem between the men had to do with her.

"So what the fuck are you gonna to do about it?" the larger of the men finally hurled in Max's direction before both of the men fell silent, and stared at her, awaiting an answer.

"Mercy," Max called out lightly, turning from the men to face the young woman who was hovering near the stairs. She motioned at the girl to come towards her. "Viens ici."

"What the fuck do you got to talk to her for?" the large man asked, taking an aggressive step towards Max.

Max stood her ground when the man's towering figure approached her. She could already tell that he was more bark than bite. If he was going to get violent, he would have done it already, before she even had time to get out there. He was toothless, a peacock fanning his feathers. All she needed to do was be firm and stay calm and …

"Watch your fucking step!"

A low, menacing voice that was not Max's cut through the air.

_Anne_, Max had just enough time to register before a blade appeared in front of her, and she jerked back in surprise. The sudden appearance of the weapon startled Max, but when she turned her head and was able to lay eyes on Anne, the sight of the redhead calmed her.

"Ain't none a your business, Bonny," the man declared fiercely, even as he raised his hands, showing them to Anne as he took a step away from Max.

"Makin' it my fuckin' business, Hoskins," Anne sneered, holding her blade on him steadily despite his backward movement.

"Oh, come on Bonny. She ain't spreadin' for you no more. What's it to you?" Hoskins complained.

Anne's blade flashed and a tear appeared in Hoskins shirt.

"The fu-"

"You ain't bleedin' yet. Talk again and ya will be," Anne said warningly.

Indignant and offended, Hoskins defied all logic and turned to Max for support.

He did not find any.

"Well, fuck you then," he spit out angrily, looking hostilely at Anne and then at Max in turn. "See if I fuckin' come back here," he hurled at Max, and then he stomped off towards the doors.

Max was so unconcerned with his tantrum that he had not stormed more than a meter away before she turned her back to him. She would not miss his business, but when he couldn't take a piss without it burning he would certainly miss her establishment and the cleanliness and good health of her girls.

"Congratulations," Max breathed out, a smile touching her lips as faced the remaining man. "You are familiar with the 'ouse rules, yes?"

The man nodded.

"Then 'ave fun … and do come back for the show," Max breathed out, holding out her hand to Mercy, who stepped forward from the side to take it.

When Mercy reached her, Max leaned over and whispered in the girl's ear for a moment. When she was through she pulled back and held Mercy's eyes for a second before she nodded at the girl and then transferred Mercy's hand over the waiting man.

Mercy began to lead the man away and Max motioned for Abe to join her.

"Stay close to them. And make sure 'e knows you are following 'im," she said, pointing her finger at Abe to emphasize the importance of that point. "I want 'im to know 'e's being watched. Do not leave Mercy's door until 'e leaves 'er. Are we clear?"

Abe nodded and then headed after Mercy and her client.

"Thank you," Max said softly, finally turning to face Anne.

Anne shrugged.

"You'd a put 'im in 'is place," she muttered. She'd seen Max's brain solve problems as well as her blades could, even better in many cases. "My way just involved less talkin'."

Max smiled at that, her eyes turning soft as she gazed at Anne. She had not seen much of the woman in the days that followed their split, and after those first few days she had not seen Anne around at all. The arrangements for the show, the daily operations of the brothel and her dates with Eleanor had kept Max's mind occupied almost constantly over the past couple of weeks, but standing opposite Anne presently, Max realized that she had missed her.

"'ow 'ave you been?" Max asked.

She wanted to reach out and draw her hand down Anne's arm, she wanted to offer some affection, but Anne's posture was tense and Max knew that she would not be receptive to such a gesture.

"Fine," Anne grumbled, looking everywhere around her but at Max. "Joined up with Naft fer the moment," she added, chancing a quick look at Max.

"Naft?" Max asked, bemused.

Naft ran a very different type of boat than Vane had and Max was surprised that he would have sought out someone with Anne's reputation – and disposition. Max knew that there was softness and decency in Anne Bonny, but the pirates of Nassau did not, and given everything Max knew about Naft, she would have thought him likely to steer clear of Anne.

Anne shrugged then muttered, "Apparently, Blondie put in a good word fer me."

"Oh," Max breathed out, unable stop her lips from twitching up the slightest bit.

She hadn't known that Eleanor had spoken to anyone Anne's behalf, but upon hearing it she wasn't surprised. It was the type of thing Max was coming to realize Eleanor did quite often, acting kindly in secret, like a compassion vigilante, helping others but seeking no acknowledgement or reward for her actions beyond the knowledge she herself had that she had done what she believed to be right.

"Was it nice to be on the water again?" Max asked.

Anne smiled one of her rare, full smiles, and the sight of it brought a sweet smile to Max's face.

"It were okay," was what Anne muttered in response to Max's question however, and upon hearing that Max's smile grew even more.

"The place looks good," Anne commented then, not wanting to talk about her feelings anymore. "Saw 'ow busy it was last night. You must be 'appy."

"I am," Max replied softly. "These things are never certain. It is a relief to know I 'ave not led myself to ruin," she continued, smiling a little.

Instinctively, Max took a step towards Anne, wanting to take Anne's hand, but Anne jerked away from her, preserving the distance between them.

"Pardon," Max murmured, rooting herself in place so as not to spook Anne again. "I did not mean to-"

"No … I … sorry," Anne sputtered, cutting Max off as she averted her gaze. "Just wasn't expectin' … nevermind," Anne sighed as she glared at the floorboards.

Anne was quiet for a few moments then. Her posture was tense and her eyebrows were scrunched together in a scowl, which Max knew meant Anne was deep in thought, puzzling over some problem.

Max remained silent, giving Anne the time she needed to work through her thoughts.

"She bein' good to you?" Anne asked finally, looking over at Max.

"She is," Max breathed out, her expression softening unconsciously at the thought of Eleanor.

Anne looked away from Max, and then bobbed her head up and down a few times before she muttered, "Good." She was silent for a moment after that, but eventually she looked over at Max again with an expression of resigned acceptance.

Anne tilted her head in the direction of the bar.

"Gonna get a drink."

"Okay," Max breathed out, graciously allowing Anne to escape.

"Best a luck tonight," Anne murmured, tipping her hat towards Max before.

"Merci," Max said softly.

Anne nodded her head in acknowledgement of Max's words, and then she turned and headed towards the bar.

Max stepped to the side so that she was not obscured by the crowd and motioned to her bartender. When he caught sight of her and focused his attention on her, Max pointed to Anne and signalled to him that Anne was not to be charged for any drinks.

It was not much, but it was a gesture that she knew Anne would accept, which was the best that she could do at the moment.

"Max."

Max sighed deeply but still turned to face the girl that was calling her.

"What is it?" she asked tiredly when Ivy came to a stop before her.

"Jack wants you," Ivy said breathlessly, her plump cheeks pink from the exertion of rushing to find Max. "Pilar's having a problem with her dress."

"Of course she is," Max muttered, shaking her head.

Pilar was the opening act and her routine was to set the excessively decadent tone of the night. Pilar's act was supposed to make the audience salivate as they wondered what extraordinary delights the rest of the night would hold if the show started out with something so spectacular.

"Take me to 'er," Max said.

**NIGHT**

Eleanor slipped her way into _La Maison de Renard_ just as the torches were being dimmed for the first performance of the night. Her conversation with Flint had kept her for some time and could have kept her for some time longer, but she had finally had to cut him off with an apology, murmuring of a prior engagement and a promising a return visit the next day before she hurriedly left.

The torch over the table where Eleanor had been seated the night before had been put out, casting the space in near perfect darkness, so after she slipped onto the bench it took Eleanor a moment to realize that she was not alone at the table.

"Bonsoir," Max breathed out. "Max was beginning to think you were not going to come."

"Forswear your words," Eleanor said, sliding closer to Max on the bench until they were side by side, arms brushing against each other. "They dress me in false robes." She leaned down so that she was speaking into Max's ear. "I swear to you," Eleanor began softly, "I am not that sort of woman. I promised you that I would be here." She took Max's hand into her own. "There is nothing that could have stopped me. There is nothing that I would not have forsaken to be here with you."

"Mon petit romantique," Max sighed, squeezing Eleanor's hand with her own before she leaned up to press a kiss to Eleanor's cheek.

Most people did not see it, but most people did not truly see Eleanor. They did not know the softness that lay beneath Eleanor's fierce exterior. They did not know Eleanor's compassion, or her playfulness, or her bouts of childish pouting, or the way her eyes sparkled with a light to rival the sun when she was excited about something. They did not know how giving Eleanor was, or how self-critical she could be. They did not know that Eleanor's lips, which hurled such foul-mouthed curses during the day, could also perfume the air with the sweetest of words. They did not know. They had no idea who Eleanor Guthrie really was.

Before Max had moved to Paris and been forced into doing what was necessary to survive, she had dreamed of romance and being on the receiving end of poetic declarations of love. Long before she arrived on Nassau's shores however, Max came to believe that no one would ever be stirred to cast such loving words upon a whore, but there was still a romantic soul trapped deep inside of her, and on occasion she had not been able to stop herself from dreaming of love.

Then, in the most remote location she had ever lived, in a town populated by barbarians, cutthroats and thieves, in the most desperate circumstances she had ever faced … Max had met Eleanor. Eleanor, who was as dashing, damaged and dangerous as any Gothic hero. Eleanor, who looked at her with awe, and spoke to her with respect, and doted on her without expectation. Eleanor, who treated her like a person with thoughts and feelings, instead of like an object to be put to use. Eleanor, who fought for her honor and was now fighting for her heart. Eleanor, with whom she had discovered the difference between fucking and making love. Eleanor, who was moved to cast such loving words upon a whore. Eleanor, who dared to love her.

"Je t'aime," Max breathed out, blinking quickly as she gazed up at Eleanor, trying to stave off the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. "Je t'aime," she whispered again before leaning up to capture Eleanor's lips in a deep, searching kiss the likes of which they had only ever shared behind closed doors before.

"We must stop," Eleanor gasped a minute later. "We'll be discovered," she whispered urgently, twitching in her seat when Max's hand began to run up her naked thigh.

Max's hand crept a little bit higher and Eleanor's breath hitched.

"C'est dommage," _That's too bad_, Max murmured, drawing her hand out from under Eleanor's dress.

Eleanor breathed out shakily and shifted on the bench, trying to get as comfortable as it was possible to be in a state of arousal as high as the one she was presently in.

"This will cheer you up though," Max whispered, snuggling against Eleanor's side as the band began to play and Pilar took the stage. "You will like this," Max continued, smirking at Eleanor as Pilar began to dance. "She takes 'er top off early in this one. You get a very long look at 'er breasts."

Eleanor's eyes widened and she looked down at Max both wounded and offended. She could not deny that she had a fondness – a _great _fondness – for Max's chest, but that did not mean that she wandered through her days falling into a stupor at the sight of any generous bosom.

"I am not so …" Eleanor began indignantly, however a flash of colour on stage distracted her and she turned her head to see what was happening.

Her eyes widened as soon as they landed on the woman onstage.

Max wasn't kidding. The dancer's top really had come off early in the show, and for a moment, Eleanor was captivated.

"I…" Eleanor began again, focusing on Max once more.

Max simply smiled at her, her expression both smug and amused.

"The detailing on the …" Eleanor began.

Max shook her head and murmured, "Do not try."

Eleanor sighed and leaned against the back of the bench.

"I'm sorry," she moaned wretchedly, hanging her head down in shame. "I didn't mean to."

Eleanor's hangdog expression made Max's heart swell with warmth, and she leaned over and peppered a series of soft kisses onto Eleanor's cheek until Eleanor smiled and looked over at her.

"Do not feel bad," Max whispered as she nuzzled against Eleanor's side again.

"But," Eleanor began, still feeling bad. Her eyes may have momentarily wondered, but her heart hadn't and wouldn't. The woman on stage was lovely, but she did not tempt Eleanor in any way and Eleanor did not want Max to think that she did. Max was all she needed, Max was all she wanted, and…

"Do not feel bad," Max repeated, interrupting Eleanor's self-chastisement. She pressed her lips against Eleanor's neck gently. "After all," Max breathed out mischievously. "Max choreographed the routine."

They were both still and silent for a moment, and then Eleanor's lips curved up and her body began to vibrate against Max's side as she laughed.

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

"What are you thinking about?" Max asked as Eleanor released a soft, wistful sigh.

They were nestled together naked on Max's bed, exhausted – but happily so. Max was sat on the mattress with her back against the headboard, while Eleanor lay on her side, her head settled on Max's abdomen. She had her arm curled under Max's slightly bent knee, hugging Max's leg loosely as her fingers indolently stroked the soft skin of Max's inner-thigh.

"The banana I left on my desk this afternoon," Eleanor replied longingly, which made Max laugh. "What? I'm starving," Eleanor moaned pitifully. "I've hardly had a thing to eat all day."

"This morning you said you did not 'ave much to do. What kept you so busy you could not eat?" Max asked idly as she mentally went over the contents they still had stocked in the kitchen after the two night extravaganza.

"Flint," Eleanor stated and Max looked down at her, her attention now sharply focused on Eleanor.

"'e's back?" Max asked.

"Yes," Eleanor whispered, before shifting on Max's lap so that she could see her face. "He got it, Max," Eleanor breathed out, her eyes shining with excitement. "He actually fucking got it."

"The treasure is 'ere?" Max asked, surprised.

Eleanor had been calm and focused on her all night and Max could not fathom how that could have been so if millions of dollars in Spanish gold were sitting somewhere in Nassau waiting for her.

"Well," Eleanor began, drawing the word out for a suspiciously long period of time. "Not exactly," she finally finished.

"What does that mean?" Max asked, though the timbre of her voice and the look in her eyes conveyed that her 'question' was really more of a command.

Eleanor explained the story to Max as Flint had told it to her earlier that day. A storm had raged while, unbeknownst to him, a mutiny was brewing. Gates suffered a heart attack and his death became the spark the mutineers needed to stir the fires of rebellion. Then a ship was sighted in the distance and Flint devised a clever ruse to get rid of it that almost worked. However, disaster struck and fire and death became the masters of Flint's ships before he was suddenly plunged into the water. He washed up on shore, disoriented, wounded and hopeless. Then, while gripped in this despair, the shadowy figures of what was left of his crew surrounded him and got him to his feet. His crew led him up a hill, and when they crested it Flint found himself looking down to see sand sparkling with Spanish gold. Quick, vicious raids were carried out by small teams of what was left of Flint's crew, attacking the Spanish survivors on the beach. Once the Spanish had been dealt with the crew dug day and night, working at a frenzied pace, until they were able to bury the treasure. Then it was simply a matter of surviving until a ship finally saw the smoke from their signal fire and picked them up.

"Out there," Eleanor breathed out, "in turquoise seas to the south, there is an island of treasure that no one besides Flint, his men, and now the two of us know about," Eleanor smiled. "All we need do is procure a ship and retrieve it."

"Eleanor," Max breathed out carefully, "you cannot afford to buy a ship."

"I don't need to," Eleanor said excitedly. "Those foreign gentlemen you pointed out to me," she continued, squeezing Max's hand. "They are the solution."

Eleanor paused then and took a deep breath, calming herself.

"If I am able to see my plan through, our portion of the treasure …"

"Our?" Max asked.

"Yes, 'our', yours and mine," Eleanor replied firmly. "I love you, Max. I know what it is to be without you, and I would never know such heartache again. I wish to live my life with you, to share my life with you. I wish for this treasure to secure a future for us, together. That being said," Eleanor breathed in deeply, building up her courage. "I have not - nor will I ever - forget the pain my association with Flint has caused you, and if … if you do not want me to pursue this any further, I … will not."

"You would do this?" Max breathed out.

"Yes," Eleanor replied looking pained, but sounding certain. "I told you earlier that once I give my word, I keep it. After the loss of the _Walrus_ and the _Ranger,_ my agreement with Flint is all but void. I would like to enter into a new one with him, but if you ask me not to, I will give you my word and be true to it," Eleanor stated firmly.

The thought of having to give up her efforts to procure the Urca fortune was torturous, but Eleanor had already experienced the pain of losing both Max and the treasure, and the pain of losing Max had been far, far greater. She did not want to have to sacrifice the Urca, but she would … if she had to. She would for Max.

Max nodded her head to acknowledge that she had heard Eleanor's words, but she was still lost in thought, fear and faith wrestling within her, fighting for dominance.

"You think you can truly recover the treasure?" Max asked finally, her tone inscrutable.

"I do," Eleanor said softly.

"And you 'ave plans already," Max murmured, stating a fact not asking a question. "You know what you want to do."

Eleanor closed her eyes, breathed out bracingly, and then sighed, "Yes."

"Does 'unting this treasure pose a danger to you?"

"No more so than any of my other business dealings," Eleanor responded wryly. "The danger is mostly faced by those at sea, and I will be here – on dry land – with you."

Max was quiet for a minute after Eleanor finished speaking, and it was one of the most agonizing minutes of Eleanor's life.

"'elp Flint return to 'is treasure island, if it is what you want," Max finally breathed out. "Max will not stand in the way of your dreams."

"This treasure is but a small part of my dr…"

"I know," Max interjected gently. "You 'ave told me," she continued, stroking Eleanor's cheek softly. "You 'ave shown me. I do not doubt your love, or your intentions. If you wish to continue on with Flint, Max will not try to stop you."

She had meant what she had said on the bridge to Eleanor all those months ago. Becoming Madame of the brothel had given her a perspective that she had lacked months before. Owning something, building something, being able to shape her own future, had helped Max to understand Eleanor in a way she had not before. Becoming Madame of _La Maison de Renard_ had made Max realize that it had been naïve and unfair of her to expect Eleanor, at the drop of a hat, to give up everything that she had worked for and was dreaming of. Nassau could not love Eleanor back, but it was not just sand either. It was hope. It was possibility. It was freedom. Max saw that now, and seeing it, she would not stand in Eleanor's way. She would not trample on Eleanor's dreams. The world already did everything it could to cage them and break them. She would not aid it. Eleanor deserved to soar, just as she did. They had to help each other fly, not clip each other's wings.

Eleanor's eyes squeezed closed, and she could not hold back the sigh of relief that escaped from her.

"Thank you," she whispered, opening her eyes again.

"You do not need to thank me," Max breathed out as she leaned down. "I love you. I do not want you to be un'appy." She brushed her lips against Eleanor's.

When Max pulled back from her lips, Eleanor gazed up at her tenderly for a moment before she pushed herself up onto her arms and then shifted so that she was resting with her back against the headboard like Max.

"I'm very fortunate to have a woman such as you," Eleanor said softly, reaching out to stroke Max's cheek gently. "And I am thankful for you," she added leaning in to kiss Max's cheek, and then her lips.

"Nothing in this world 'as made Max as 'appy as you," Max sighed against Eleanor's lips. "And I am thankful for you."

Eleanor smiled at her brightly and Max beamed back at her before snuggling herself against Eleanor's side.

"So?" Max prompted after a few moments of silence.

"So what?" Eleanor asked, confused.

"Tell Max 'ow the foreign gentlemen are the key to getting your treasure," Max said, pinching the flesh over Eleanor's ribs lightly and then smiling when Eleanor squirmed.

"Well," Eleanor began, wrestling with Max's hands, trying to stop them from prodding at her again. "I won't tell you if you're going to harass me," Eleanor continued, her tone disapproving and her gaze warning.

"Un bébé," Max murmured, but she stopped trying to interfere with Eleanor and settled peacefully against her side again. "Max will behave. Go on."

"Well," Eleanor began, but she paused almost immediately and looked at Max suspiciously. Max did nothing to interfere with her however, and after a few moments Eleanor continued. "When I spoke with Mr. Tahan and Mr. Feng, mentioned being in need of experienced fighters …"

A content smile touched Max's lips as Eleanor's arm wrapped around her, holding her close. Max's body melted against Eleanor's, molding herself to the blonde's side, and her eyes closed, enjoying the sound of Eleanor's voice.

"So Max is to be part of your plan?" Max asked minutes later, when Eleanor paused and looked down at her.

"If Max wants to be," Eleanor replied, smiling.

"What is in it for Max?" Max inquired.

"Besides my undying devotion?" Eleanor asked.

"Oui," Max breathed out. "Max already 'as that," she pointed out, smiling up at Eleanor before pressing their lips together.

"I cannot contest your words," Eleanor whispered, sounding completely content. "As long as I draw breath, you will never be alone in this world," she continued, "but if you become a part of this alliance in your own right, it will secure a small fortune for you that is entirely your own. You could use the money to buy out Jack's portion of the brothel, Max. You could make _La Maison de Renard_ wholly yours."

Max's eyes lit up at the thought and for a moment she drifted, imaging the changes she could make without having to spend hours convincing Jack of the wisdom of her ideas. Jack liked the income the brothel provided him, but he had no particular interest in the place beyond the coin it brought him, which could make him difficult to deal with when she wanted make changes that would benefit the girls but did not have a clear monetary value for him. What Jack really wanted was to be back at sea, was to be part of a crew again, and valued. If she could offer him a chance at that, if she could pay him enough to procure a ship, she had no doubt that he would take the offer.

"You know Max very well," Max breathed out, gazing up at Eleanor.

"As you know me," Eleanor replied softly.

"Max would know you now," she whispered, drawing her hand up Eleanor's nude thigh suggestively.

"Eleanor will do as you command," Eleanor replied, her voice soft and rough as she spread her legs to give Max access to her hidden treasure.

Max smiled and then leaned over, bringing their lips together as her fingers began to tease Eleanor.

Their lives were not perfect. They had struggled and they had overcome, but they would face hardship again. This was life, both glorious and tragic. However, as Eleanor gasped softly and Max's fingers became wet with her desire, Max knew that they were luckier than most because they had each other, and that made anything that life could throw at them endurable. As impossible as the prospect of love had once seemed to the both of them, they had managed to find it with each other, and it was wondrous.

**The End**

_Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story :) If you did and you'd like to drop me a line, comments are very much appreciated._


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